


A Basketball team of LaSalles

by Jeneral2885



Category: NCIS: New Orleans
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-03-25 20:18:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3823417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jeneral2885/pseuds/Jeneral2885





	1. Chapter 1

_  
A whole new story, ignore the previous two. It probably doesn’t rain at this time of the year in New Orleans, but I made it up for fun._

_Set after “My City”._

**_Balcony of NCIS New Orleans HQ_ **

**_2000 hours_ **

“Hey all, I’m retiring early for the night,” Senior Special Agent Dwayne Pride announced. “Laurel just texted inviting me over to one of her musical performances so I’ve a to catch a early flight. You can stay here, just keep the noise level down though I don’t expect you all to do so. If not there’s city to conquer.”

 

“I’m going back Pride,” Dr. Loretta Wade said. “My bones aren’t the same as they used to me.”

 

“I’ll walk around,” Sebastian Lund said, lifting his arm then thinking better. “The city air is better down around the streets.”

 

“Did you want to raise your hand again?” Whined Patton Plame.

 

“Listen you…”

 

“Pride, I better clean up my place before I join you proper so thanks all. Have a great weekend.” Sonja Percy waved and moved off.

 

“Well, that leaves us,” Special Agent Christopher LaSalle remarked. “Guess it’s the same old question: Any special plans?”

 

“Nothing,” Brody said, finishing her beer.

 

“Doc Wilkins still out of town?”

 

“Yeah, still with the 4th Fleet, or what I hear is AFRICOM wants him to train some countries in don’t know which African country.”

 

“The travelling doc,” LaSalle replied, careful not to say the word ‘shrink’. “So you’re alone again.”

 

“Before you ask it, no I’m declining any dinner,” Brody quickly added.

 

“Well, nothing really went wrong last time,” LaSalle commented, remembering their dinner after the Newman baby case. “Except maybe a slightly over-salty garlic bread.”

 

“It’s not your bread, I just like to wander alone tonight. Have a good evening, LaSalle,” she shook her partner’s hand and wandered off. New Orleans was New Orleans as always: musicians performing at almost every block, students and workers reveling in the streets as if it was a public holiday and outlets filled to the brink with already tipsy revellers. Just as Brody crossed another crossing, she heard the roar of thunder above. Darn it, she thought, it’s only like early spring. Is this the kind of greeting New Orleans gets?

 

The drops already started to fall as the seasoned Federal Agent moved through the night crowds. Quite a number of those in front of her have opened umbrellas or use their bags to shelter themselves. I’ve been through hell weather while on sea deployment, she thought. So why on earth would I require any cover? A few minutes later, Brody dismissed that thought as the droplets miraculously turned into pouring rain and the crowds dashed into any nearby covered shelters or bus strops. Damnit, Brody said as a short breeze blew the rain her and others nearby. Darn it, I’m  many blocks away from my place...

 

Wait a minute, this is the French Quarter, Brody thought. LaSalle lives some where around her. Well, two blocks from where I am, she remembered. Braving the increase rainfall, she crossed several streets and reached his apartment block. Despite her quick moves, Brody was now drench with the rain, her long sleeve top and pants clinging on to her skin. One floor, two floor, damnit, why didn’t they fix the lift in this block. Finally, a super soaked Brody jammed her finger against the doorbell. No answer. “LaSalle!” she called. Still no answer. “LaSalle it’s me...”

 

The door flung open to reveal LaSalle yanking up his jeans. “Hey you don’t have to shout the whole place...oh wow,” he commented, looking at the state of his partner.

 

“Wow, is an under...ah choo!!!” Brody sneezed. “Understatatement.” Darn, this is the first I’ve caught a cold, she thought.

 

“Come on in,” LaSalle commented, “you need to get out of those clothes immediately.”

 

“Get out of...”

 

“I didn’t mean it that way, Brody,” LaSalle gave a short laugh. “But I do know not to cling on to super soaked clothes. There’s my shower,” he pointed. “Should be a spare towel in the shelf above if not give me a call.”

 

“Tha...ah choo!!!” Brody sneezed again. Slipping off her also soggy shoes, she made her way to the bathrrom and gladly took off, or more like, peeled off her clothes and underwear. As the shower water warmed up her skin, she thought back to her original dismal of joining LaSalle. Just because of the weather, I’m here, using his shower. Or more like being naked in LaSalle’s lair. Haha, what ever next?

**_LaSalle's Residence_ **

****

**_French Quarter, New Orleans_ **

****

**_2045 local_ **

Brody turned the shower nozzle to "off" and exited the shower cubicle. The extra towel was pretty rough but she supposed that's how LaSalle, or maybe Alabamian's like it. Right, now to wear..oh darn, Brody thought, my clothes are outside. Wrapping the towel tightly across her large breasts, she gingerly exited the shower room and found a male sweatpants  and sports shirt with the words "CRIMSON TIDE" written diagonally across the front.

 

"What the…LaSalle?!" Brody cried noticing her partner just outside.

 

"What the? I bought you some dry clothes," he replied.

 

"But..where's my clothes?!" she cried, immediately thinking that he hide them away or even touches her underwear.

 

"It's over there. You left it there. I didn't move them an inch," he pointed and she rushed to the pile in the corner. Yes, everything was there, bra, panties, shirt, coat, pants. So did he touched anything?

 

"Brody what's has come over you?"

 

"Err…" she took a few deep breathes. Ok, ok, you're imagining things. This is LaSalle, your partner, only occasionally playful, but mostly a cultured gentleman.

 

"Well, do you want to just stand there? It's obvious we aren't the same size but that's the best I have."

 

"Oh…yeah… uh, where's your dryer?"

 

"Ha…actually I don't have one. But I think my washing machine comes with it. I've never tried it though; just always hang my clothes up to dry. You wanna dress first?"

 

Brody peered at the two pieces of clothing as LaSalle left the room. Despite the constant interaction with him, she never really judged LaSalle by his size. Sure, she had seen his biceps and triceps but she had never really judged LaSalle's size. Now, the shirt he had provided gave her an indication of how large his torso was—she was practically swimming in his shirt. The sweat pants was far worse—the size was several inches larger than her slim waist and the elastic was loose. With one hand yanking the pants up and the other holding her soaked clothes, she headed out to find LaSalle.

 

"Well yeah looks like I do have a dryer after all…woah," LaSalle commented. "You are really swimming in my clothes."

 

"Yeah, well, can you work it?" Brody asked, dumping her clothes and underwear in in one go. Crap, this pants really need to be yanked up every few minutes.

 

"Yep, I think that's it," LaSalle said closing the hatch and watching the lights blink. "It's moving and I don't think it's washing it."

 

"It better not be," Brody jabbed him then lost her grip and the loose pants drop half way. Her quick reactions caught it but not before behind was momentarily exposed.

 

"Shit," she called out loud but the 'damage' was done.

 

"Oh is that your…"

 

To be continued.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks for the reviews._

_I don't know my cocktails._

**LaSalle's Apartment**

**French Quarter**

**New Orleans**

**2050 local**

"Hey! Is that your tattoo?" LaSalle exclaimed, "Ow! What was that for?"

"I don't need to you prey into my butt."

"Hey, one you are in my house, two you are wearing my clothes, and three you're waist size is smaller than mine."

"I told you, I keep my personal life and professional life separate," she countered.

"Well, this is not a 'professional setting'", he commented.

"I ..just…" There's nothing wrong with showing him the figure, one voice told her. Who is he to see your tattoo? Another voice told her, what's wrong with that? It's just your body art…

"Hey, I myself really do have one," LaSalle continued, lowering his jeans and his boxers in one go, revealing 'ROLL TIDE' just above his anal crack.

"LaSalle! That's enough!" Brody exclaimed though again part of her said it was just again a tattoo. His looked pretty cool.

"Ok, ok, you don't want see," he said buckling his jeans back up. She has a tattoo, I have a tattoo, why so shy?

"Would you something to drink while we wait? Coffee? Or alcohol stuff? I'm low on fizzy drinks but can probably find a can or two."

"Uh, something not to strong."

"Well not to strong," Brody replied, trying to tighten the sweat pants.

"Light drinking ain't the way in New Orleans," drawled LaSalle as he entered the kitchen to fix the drinks. Moments later he produced two cocktails glass containing some opaque greenish liquid inside. Meredith Brody took a sniff at it for a moment before taking a sniff.

"Pretty nice, it tastes like a Mojito but doesn't look like one," she commented.

"That's exactly what it is; so cleverly disguised. I call is 'Chris-ijto'", he laughed.

"Better than what James would make or order for me," she smiled.

"James your ex-fiancé, the one who wet met during that case of the sailor in strip club? And the one who has a weird fruit salad fetish?"

"Haha, you have a great memory. Yeah that's James."

"I never asked how you 'ended the story'," LaSalle remembered his phrase.

"Uh, well we met for a drink, that's it."

"Meredith Brody, you are a great interrogator but a liar. Your face says it all."

"Huh...what...shit," Brody exclaimed.

"So spill it, what actually happened?"

"No, won't say." It's none of his business Brody immediately thought. Still another part of her said, why not just tell him?"

"Come on, say it..."

"Enough, LaSalle," Brody warned him though that came out much weaker than before.

"Ok, ok. Or maybe I'll just tell good ol' Doc Wilkins..." before Chris LaSalle could say anything further, he received a sharp punch from his partner. "Ow! Brody!"

"Stop behaving like a child!" she scolded

"Hey, it's you who is. And again, you are in my house, and you dictum of separate public and private lives doesn't apply here."

Brody wanted to counter-argue again but only bit her lip. LaSalle's she thought. But do I have to tell him? "Ok, Mr. Nosey-salle. We had a drink, then many drinks, then it all ended up in..."

"...bed." LaSalle just added the word though inwardly he said, ah hah, I knew it.

"Look..nothing happened," Brody lied showing no emotion in her face this time.

"Ok, ok, I believe you." For now, LaSalle he thought. "So, how does that work out between you and Sam Wilkins then?"

Brody took another long drink of her cocktail before answering. "Oh Chris LaSalle, you moved to an even more difficult question. Well, Sam is around here, just not at present but he's around here. He's funny, easy to confide with and as you overheard then, a great cook. James, well James has his humour and his strength, uh muscles but well, he jumps at any any opportunity, and I mean non-human opportunity."

"So it's the good doc then."

"Well, I'm no so certain about that. Sam is nice, but to be with him for long term? I can't view it."

"He's has his negative side then?"

"I just can't don't see him one that I want to run to at the end of any day. What about you now, I mean after Savannah?"

"Well, nobody yet."

"Who was that girl we met during that US SEAL case, wait, Heather? The cheerleader from your good ol' Alabama?"

"Heather? Heather's just a friend."

"Oh really? The way she talked was like you two had something serious going on."

"Nothing."

"Now mister, you caught me minutes ago no I got you. Spill it."

"Heather's a friend. Heather's a friend," Chris repeated but it was given away in his tone.

"Say it now."

"Ok ok fine but it was before I got serious with Savannah. But it wasn't that many dates." Chris then looked away for a few minutes.

"I'm sorry if I brought this up, I mean Savannah. I know she meant a lot to you."

"Yeah, it's cool Brody."

"Ok, look you're right I'm acting too much on my old rules. Call me Merri here."

"Righto, Merri, say you finished that dring quick. Wanna have another one?"

With Brody's consent LaSalle came back with a different coloured liquid. "LaSalle I asked for another of that previous concoction not a new drink."

"In LaSalle's home you never take the same drink twice. Bit of whisky and various juices but all in balance. I think you'll like it." Brody took the tiniest sip and declared it just ok. "Not as good as the first one."

"I'll finish part of it if you can't. Oh, let's see if you clothes are ready." He head back out again and as he did so Brody mind flashed back to her time in New Orleans. Beyond the adrenaline rush of each case, she had settled in well into the city, mostly because of the team members here. Pride, well he's a fatherly figure to her besides being a boss. Doctor Wade, she's a caring person and one you can run to for emotional advice. Sebastian, well I can wishtand some of his antics, she thought, but only to a certain level. Still, he a form of stress reliever during the rush of each case. But now Christopher LaSalle. I thought he was too ultra-kind at first, wanting to help me get a residence, then trying to show me the parts of the Big Easy and wondering about my romantic relationships. Ok so what's going to happen next?

The End

Authors Note: I end it here because I can't think of ways to develop the next part. Besides, I've many other stories to work out. Thank You!


End file.
